


‘The Bakery’

by takaraikarin



Category: K-pop, Super Junior
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 20:51:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takaraikarin/pseuds/takaraikarin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he came ushered in by the breeze you weren’t quite alert yet, and everything seemed to be in slow motion –from the way he loosen his shawl slightly to how his long lashes rested gently over smooth cheeks, slightly reddened by the chill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	‘The Bakery’

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** ‘The Bakery’  
>  **Author:** Takarai Karin  
>  **Pairing:** KangTeuk (and a touch of HanChul)  
>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Genre:** Gratuitous fluff  
>  **Disclaimer:** No owning. Just fangirling. No suing.
> 
> A **'KangTeuk! At the Bakery AU'**. Inspired by Arctic Monkeys’s song [The Bakery](www.metrolyrics.com/bakery-lyrics-arctic-monkeys.html). But it's not really a songfic. Listening to the song while reading this might help set the mood though.

**[fic] ‘The Bakery’ | KPop fic | KangIn x LeeTeuk [YoungWoon x JungSoo]**

The first time the two of you met, was at the bakery. It was a slow day and you were standing bored behind the counter, daydreaming, watching autumn winds that you couldn’t quite feel played tag with fallen leaves. When he came ushered in by the breeze you weren’t quite alert yet, and everything seemed to be in slow motion –from the way he loosen his shawl slightly to how his long lashes rested gently over smooth cheeks, slightly reddened by the chill.

You thought maybe the wind had gone and played tag with fallen angels instead.

You took his order, indulged his sweet tooth and he thanked you, smilingly. That kinda made the whole day’s worth.

-

The second time you met him, he was standing amongst high shelves, surrounded by books. You checked the code on his row: Classical Music. That made you stopped, coz you’re standing between stacks of mechanical blue prints and there were grease stains on your jeans –from a practicum class this morning, you had your bed-hair, and the hoodie you’re hiding it under had a chocolate stain on it –from a clumsy kid and her sundae at the bakery.

And he. He was blanketed by a rich looking pashmina the color of roses and you think that suits his fair skin a whole lot. You noticed his hands now. Long fingered and elegant –those of an artist’s- and they’re gesturing animatedly, dancing to invisible notes in front of the person standing within their reach.

You know the guy- know his lanky form and his quiet mannerism and the lilt in his speech that resonate his foreign descent. HeeChul’s got a huge crush on him and is quicker with his coffee refills than he would ever be with any other costumers. The red-haired spent forever mooning over his warm grasp when he finally was brave enough to introduce himself, waxing poetries about long, smooth fingers. Those of an artist’s.

You knew nothing of the sheet scores the two figure in front of you were holding, only that your stained jeans and your sturdy fingers had never looked more out of place than right there, before the sight in front of you.

He smiled at the foreigner, more beautiful than what you remembered from last time. That kinda broke your heart, a bit.

-

You were sitting hunched in an arcade, close to where you part-timed, breathing on the hands you folded in front of your face. September was never this cold where you came from, and you really aren’t the tetchy type but the weather’s way too accommodating for your recent schmaltziness and the notion to blankly stare at windows, sigh, and be disgustingly emo –the last label was courtesy of his compassionate coworker, HeeChul, of course.

The chilliness even made you delusional, or so you think. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t keep your mind away from a pair of sharp eyes under honey-colored bangs that you wanted to brush aside; soft-angled chin and even softer-curved lips, talking. smiling. but not at you. Even in your daydreams those weren’t directed at you.

And maybe it’s the sheer gloominess of it all that causes it, but you kept seeing him everywhere.

It was a glimpse of auburn hair at the post office while waiting in line, moving quickly past rows of people, and you’re almost certain when you saw the figure slipped out of the front door that it was indeed him. You were about to forget the package you’re supposed to send and follow his flight, but you’re among crowd, and the old lady behind you poked the handle of her umbrella at you, frowning for you to step forward.

So you told yourself you’re seeing things. It couldn’t be _him_.

Then, there was the whisper of laughter your brain instantly identified as his –how, you may never know- while sprinting quickly between buildings to your next class. You were almost late. Your head spun around quickly in search of the source, still not stopping your jog, distracting you from a figure approaching from the opposite direction, thus you successfully bumped your shoulder against the person.

A soft ouch, and you instinctively held the body in your arms to keep it steady. The courteous way in those instances would be to ask if the person is okay and to offer help if needed, but one look at whom in fact it was that you were holding stole your breath away. It was him. Standing there in your arms, a hand clutching your forearm for balance, a slightly dazed look on his face. Speech was way beyond you at the time.

You could finally ask, though, and he insisted that he’s fine. There was still an opened cell phone in his hand, and he excused himself to assure the person on the other line that he’s fine, too. _Thank you_ he whispered, the same time you mouthed _I’m sorry_ , and he giggled at that. He bowed and excused himself, and you stood in your spot for a whole five minutes. That kinda pissed off your lab partners, but you can’t help not caring.

-

After that, though, it was back to a whole other series of almost-kinda-met-him instances for you, back to constantly feeling like you’re having a bad case of indigestion. You’re restless all the time and HeeChul thinks you’re being an idiot. Serendipity looks good in romance movies, but even then, it’ll only work if the main character actually _does_ something about it, for crying out loud. It’s not like the universe have nothing better to do than be your personal match-maker.

You paused at his words and looked at him –really _looked_ at him- after what seemed like quite a while. You’re neither blind nor stupid –quixotically challenged, perhaps, but not _stupid_. And you know that there’s truth in what he said –coz HeeChul may look like he’s narcissistic and vain, but it took a lot from him in his bakery uniform and cobbler apron to approach the man in Burberry trench-coat, nose buried in a Hummel textbook. Feeling self-conscious is unfortunately not below either of you, regardless of what cocky image you both build daily.

That was just yesterday, and after that you had resolved yourself to start being a fully-functional human being around the object of your affection next time you got a chance to see him. Heck, maybe even try to pull off being charming, a bit. You were in high spirits when you came into work today, the chanting of _it’s either today or just forget about it_ constantly running across your mind like erroneous news-tickers. And then you got inside the bakery and HeeChul shouted: ‘Ugh- you’re late! You just missed him, he was here not five minutes a go!’ and suddenly you deflated.

The rest of the morning was spent in lifelessness, you can’t even explain how ridiculous you’re being, but you’ve felt that today would _the_ day, today would be magical, you’d finally get to know his name, everything supposed to work out fine, coz you’re skeptical you can feel as careless as this morning, throwing cautions and tightly held pride in the air. Even if you got turned down today, you think you can handle it. It’s all seemed possible when you woke up.

‘Ugghh~’ you moan into your hands, feeling fateful moments passing you by. Maybe you’re just bound to never meet with the pretty guy again or something. You’re being dramatic, but you figured it’s acceptable for now.

‘Are you okay?’ a voice says to your right.

You raise your head and your eyes make contact with a pair of dark brown ones, concern written in them. You feel your mouth gaping stupidly, but- but you can’t _not_ gape, coz it’s him! Sitting beside you on the bench, his auburn hair catching sunshine and blinding you, tinting his fair skin in a warm color and you can feel warmth spreading across your own face.

‘Um…’ was your reply, your wit unfaltering.

He smiles at you, showing unbelievably attractive dimples decorating the smooth planes of his cheeks. ‘We’ve bumped in a lot, right? You’re from the bakery, the one that always remember my favorite muffins.’ His eyes were sparkling with fondness. You can’t understand why such soft-features in a man can be so breath-taking, it’s almost ridiculous. ‘Hi, I’m LeeTeuk,’ he says, and a hand is thrusting forward.

‘I- KangIn. I’m KangIn.’ You finally manage, and shake his hand back.

It’s actually time to get back to the bakery, but he’s so exited to get back there at the prospect of more muffins, and you can’t remember ever coming in to work in such cheerfulness.

That, and the look on HeeChul’s face as the two of you come in together is priceless.

 

**Stop.**  


 


End file.
